Good Sister Bad Sister
by In Smithereens
Summary: AU. What if Buffy had killed herself when put in the mental institution shown in 'Normal Again? What if Dawn was the latest slayer?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: BTVS is owned by Joss Whedon, the title is a Hole song. I have changed Dawns's age, in this version she was five when Buffy was called, her birth year is 1991, she's a junior in high-school. Thanks, Review, if you have the time.

She was running through a school that was crumbling beneath her, a wave of sadness swept over her as she finally got out, looking back, looking for someone. She got on a bus with a large group of girls, most wounded, most panicking. She sat at the back, staring out of the window looking once again. They were speeding through the town, the streets and buildings crumbling behind them. Finally she spotted her. Sprinting and jumping from roof to roof as they fell to the ground. The woman jumped and she could no longer see her. Once they were outside the town the bus pulled over to a stop. Dawn got out and finally saw the woman up close. In front of her, smiling with an immense level of exhaustion and sadness there she was. Buffy.

Dawn woke up with a start to the sound of her alarm clock. She sighed. She had dreamt of her sister twice in the past week. Over ten times that month. But it wasn't the Buffy from the hospital, or what dawn remembered of her. A Buffy that wouldn't look at their parents, just told Dawn that she had to fight the vampires, over and over. A Buffy that hadn't bathed in a week, her hair obscuring her face and a manic terror in her eyes. This Buffy was an adult. To dawn, she looked about twenty. And she had lived. She was the hero that sick Buffy thought she was. And, although the sadness she had faced was undeniable in the way she held herself, the look in her eyes, she would have never done what Buffy had…

Four hours later, in Creative Writing Dawn thought of the dream again. She wondered if she could salvage at least an interesting story from it and began to write it down. She had written a page when the teacher began reading it over her shoulder.

"It's interesting, but who is the narrator? What is her motivation? Who is the woman? Why do they stop?" He said. Dawn stopped and looked over her work, checking to see if she had mentioned her sister. She hadn't and Dawn bit her lip, the school knew about Buffy, although it had happened almost twelve years ago, when Dawn herself was only five. But it was an urban legend now. The all-American cheerleader gone psycho, jumping off the top of the LAX multi-story car-park when nobody would believe her alibi. It wasn't like people talked to Dawn about it, or held it against her. But she knew that they were always watching her. Looking for the signs of the same genes that made her sister crazy. So Dawn just shook her head.

"It's just a dream I had, I woke up before I learnt anything." She said, turning to a fresh page in her note-book and beginning to work on the actual assignment. A poem about a particular feeling, turned human. The teacher shook his head but walked away, allowing Dawn to carry on dwelling on her dream. A week ago she had gone to a dream meanings database online, trying to figure out what her recurring dreams about another life meant, but hadn't been able to surmise anything. Somehow, she had created a whole world, where her sister actually was a hero, living on a hellmouth, with friends with equally fantastical powers. And, although they had to fight for their lives on an almost weekly basis, they were happy (for the most part)… It wasn't that Dawn was unhappy with her life; she had a nice car, her GPA was 4.0, she had friends, her dad loved her and she was good looking (not that that was something to be proud of, because she hadn't worked for it); it was more that she felt she was supposed to be someone else. The bell rang and she sighed, gathering up her books and turning on her IPod. She put her books in her locker and went outside, sitting on the steps to wait for her friends, sucking on a sour blue lolly.

"Burger King?" She said as they walked over to her. "I'm having a wicked onion ring craving." She stood up and brushed her fringe out of her eyes. Dressed in a tie-dyed lacy purple vest top, a faded blue mini-skirt and grey suede ballet flats she looked like the quintessential California girl; flirty, beach-y and a little bit bohemian. She put on a pair of vintage (read- overpriced, second-hand) Ray-Ban aviators and smiled at the other girls. Linking arms with Callie; her tall, lithe, tanned and golden blonde best friend she giggled, walking towards her car.

When they got to the student filled restaurant Dawn volunteered to get a table, whilst her friends ordered their food. She walked up to the second floor and sat down at a booth, turning up her IPod. She had been waiting for five minutes (and ignoring the hick college girls talking about her latest modelling campaign sitting at the other side of the room) when an uncomfortable looking bespecled man came up to her table.

"Dawn Summers?" He asked, standing in front of the table. Dawn rolled her eyes. This was what her agent told her to be wary of, grown men following her because of her notorious All American Girl meets Courtney Love ad campaigns for jeans brand Sweet Marie. She remembered what Anais had told her, to be polite but slowly get him to leave her alone.  
"Yes? This table is taken, you know." She smiled. He shook his head, clearly psyching himself up to say something.

"If I could just have a moment, I need to talk to you. Your destiny awaits." He said, slowly.

"If it's my destiny, then won't it just come naturally? 'Cause I'm sure you're very nice and all but I'm seventeen and you're what? Thirty? Why don't you just wait 'till I finish high school and then we'll see what my destiny is." She said, looking around the room, across from her some jock-looking guys were sitting up in their seats, poised to 'defend her' if the guy (who spoke in an upper class British accent) tried anything. He sat down across from her in the booth and took off his glasses looking her straight in the eyes.

"This is serious. You are the only person who can stop them." He said, urgently.

"Who?" She said exasperated.

"The vampires." He replied. Dawn stood up and backed away. Her head in her hands she almost began to cry.

"Do you think it's funny? What happened to my sister?" She shouted as she came to the jocks' table. "Can you tell my friends that I've left?" She asked the boys. They nodded and stood up, blocking the Brit.

Dawn ran down the stairs almost hyperventilating. When she came to the care she threw her stuff in the passenger seat and sped away, running every stop sign until she got to her house.

She ran up into her bedroom and locked the door, even though she was alone in the house. She took out her cell phone to call her dad but she was so on edge that she crushed it in her palm. She looked at the mess of wires and plastic in her hand and sat on her bed. There was a package lying on the butterfly printed cover, quickly, her hands shaking, she opened it. A cross fell out of it, along with a file filled with papers and photographs. She read the first paper and her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm like her…" She whispered, curling up on top of her bed in the foetal position. There was a package lying on the butterfly printed cover, quickly, her hands shaking, she opened it.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. Sorry I took so long to put this up, I have alot of the dialogue in my head, I just can't concentrate on a computer at the moment. Any suggestions as to how I can make it better? I will be putting a couple of Sunnydalers in, though they will be different, as Buffy was never in their lives! I'm trying to think of a conflict and drawing a blank... Help! Enjoy.

She took half an hour to calm down and think things through. She tried to make a list, figuring out whether this was real, or she was just crazy. She came to the conclusion that

1. She was stronger then she had ever been

2. Nobody but Buffy's doctors and her father new about the 'delusions', everyone assumed that she was just schizophrenic so the guy at Burger King couldn't have known

3. The documents looked real, they answered questions 4. Was she really so self-obsessed that she thought someone would go to such trouble, just to mess with her. And 5. Surely if you think that you're crazy, you're not crazy. 'Cause if you were, you wouldn't doubt anything, and you'd just go along with it.

So, logically, Dawn was some kind of mutant. But did that make her a hero? A warrior? Why did she have to fight? One of the last things Buffy had said to her echoed through her brain "I'm the only one! Nobody else can do this. If I don't fight then people will die, you'll die Dawnie, and mom and dad. You've got to help me!" Dawn shuddered. She hadn't helped her sister. She had only been four. She just cried and ran into her mother's arms.

Buffy thought being a Slayer was a good thing. She had left everything to do it. But what if Buffy was crazy as well? What if these people, these Watchers had been using her? Dawn's head throbbed as she tried to reason it out. Finally she came to a conclusion. There was only one Slayer at a time, there were millions of vampires and demons in the world (thinking back, Dawn wondered if her Freshman biology teacher, Ms French had been one), the slayer had the, what did they call it? 'strength and skill'. So she had to fight, she had to help.

She stepped off the bed and ran her hands through her hair. What should she do now? She thought about going back to school and shook her head, she was exhausted. She picked up the package and put it on her desk, a sheet of paper fluttered out 'Easton Cemetery, 7:30pm' it read. She looked at the clock beside her bed. 2:18… It was going to be a long wait.

She spent the rest of the day in the attic, looking through the hidden boxes of her sister's belongings. She was resigned to it, she was just like Buffy. Only she wouldn't tell her father about it. She would be like Clark Kent, without the bad suits. She sat up there for hours, reading through Buffy's old journals and looking at her yearbooks. Her phone buzzed at 6:15 she picked up a stake from the false-bottomed trunk and made her way back to her room. Quickly she changed into faded blue jeans, cream converse, a grey thermal tee and a stripy grey hoodie. She tucked a stake into a worn brown messenger bag and turned her acid green Ipod to an old K's Choice song. She scooped up her car keys and ran down the stairs. She got in the car and lit a cigarette to calm her nerves. She sat behind the wheel for the next fifteen minutes, chain smoking, and her heart pounding. Finally, at 7 she started the car and made her way to the cemetery.

The first thing the guy, her watcher said to her as she walked through the gates of the cemetery was "You're not wearing the cross." He frowned. Dawn rolled her eyes,

"Isn't it like false advertising? I'm not a Christian and I certainly don't want the image of a torture device around my neck." She said, calmly.

He looked at her curiously.

"Well, it's not my prerogative. I'm Wesley Wyndam-Pryce." He held out his hand and Dawn accepted it in an awkward handshake.

"I guess you know who I am, coming all this way to teach me and all." She smiled weakly.

"So, for our first session I propose that we test your fighting skills and then reconvene to a safe location so I can answer any questions you may have." He said, authoritatively. Dawn nodded.  
"And take that contraption out of your ear," he said, pointing to her Ipod. "You'll strangle yourself, more than likely."

She nodded and put the ipod into her pocket.

"Lesson the first; never give a vampire any weapon to use against you." He said. Dawn bit her lip, a comment on how pompous he was threatened to spill out.

"So, are we going hunting or just sitting here waiting to be eaten?" She asked, pulling out the stake and gripping it tightly.

"Your sister's?" He asked quietly, nodding to the weapon.

"Um, yeah. I think anyway. It was with her stuff."

"Dawn, Miss Summers-'' Wesley started.

"Dawn, I guess we'll be spending enough time together," she smiled slowly.

"Dawn, the council regret what happened to your sister. We had an operative in the hospital with her, and another on the way. But it was too late. From her records, it seems that she truly believed she was, for lack of a better word, mad." He said looking her in the eyes. Dawn blinked, as if holding back tears.

"I understand, I don't like it but I understand." She replied.

As Wesley began to stand up there was a blur of movement in buy a mausoleum. On instinct, Dawn shot up and ran over, there she saw a monster, 'a vampire' she reminded herself, feeding off an elderly groundskeeper. Seeing her, the vampire dropped the old man and lunged forwards. Immediately Dawn stepped to the side, and the vampire (whom Dawn now realized was male) almost lost his balance. As he righted himself and dove towards her she drew the stake back. He loomed over and she plunged the stake into his heart. The force of this movement made her dizzy and she almost lost her balance as he turned to dust.

"How do you feel?" Wesley asked, running to her side. Dawn's mouth broke into a beatific smile.

"I feel strong." She said hoarsely.

Over the next few hours she dusted several other vampires. She learnt that she could now do flips and rolls whilst barely breaking a sweat. She also, as she fought her third vampire, learnt that they were every bit as strong as her. That she had to evade them before she fought back. Wesley was dumbfounded with a sort of pride for her. She had all the instincts; coupled with a brown belt in karate (he had researched her, of course). He felt safe, for the first time since he was a child.

A little after midnight they had patrolled the whole cemetery (the biggest in the city) and they walked to her car.

He coughed, "I'm staying in a hotel for now, but we really should talk." He started. Dawn smiled. "My dad's out of town, we could go to my house, it's a twenty minute drive." She said, "Follow my car."

So they drove, Dawn chugging on a can of Red Bull as she drove through the familiar streets. Wesley smoked a cigarette with the window open in his rented sedan.

When they got to the house, they sat down in the kitchen.

"What exactly am I?" She asked, lighting a cigarette.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I just had to stay up and write the following. Tell me how the characterisation is...

For the next two months Dawn trained with Wesley every night. She amassed a web of bruises that, although each would heal in under a day (a perk- super healing) another would take the empty place. She started to eat less, a Summers trait when under stress and sleep later. Her friends commented on her unbrushed hair and missing homework. She was even beginning to look tired! But, despite all this, Dawn felt powerful. She felt a rush every time she staked a vampire (and she had beheaded a m'fashnick demon, after catching it at a hospital where she was getting a dislocated shoulder bandaged). She relished the fear in their eyes when they realised that they couldn't win. That she was a superchick… She even started to pun at them, laughing as they tried to kill her. Her dad came back from his business trip for a couple of days, promised Dawn a vacation and leaving. At the moment, he was in Washington. Dawn wasn't sure what her dad did for a living, she knew it was something in the law but he was never clear. She was just glad that he would leave her alone. Junior year came to an end with a flurry of finals (which she breezed through) and parties.

It was the first of July and Dawn was stretched out on a towel at the beach. Wearing a boy-cut purple heart printed bikini, her hair tied in a loose ponytail, huge sunglasses on and her pale skin almost glowing as the sun bounced off it (she didn't tan, but she loved the sun) she dozed as her friends discussed their plans for the evening.

"Cookout, right Dawn?" Abi asked slowly.

"Uh huh, but I might be late, boyfriend wants to go to a 'gig'" She said the last word in a mockney accent, inwardly shuddering. She had told her friends that Wes was her boyfriend, studying law at UCLA. Wesley had argued that they might find it strange, a man of his age with a seventeen year old. But Dawn had explained that, to her friends, older guys were the norm. And, it was the only way to explain why Dawn was spending so much time with him.

"Tell him to come," Callie pouted.

"It's not really his scene, Cal." Dawn smiled, turning onto her stomach and turning on her Ipod, indicating that the conversation was over. After a few minutes like that she rolled over and stood up, pulling on her green batik print mini dress and flip-flops.

"I need to do something!" She said, sighing. "Lying around is so boring." Callie rolled her eyes and stood up, pulling on a pair of denim cut-offs.

"Shopping?" She said, buttoning up her white cotton top.

"Always," Dawn replied, grinning as she linked arms with her friend as they walked away from the group.

"Abi, put our towels in your car, okay?" Callie said to the redhead, who was lying on a star print towel, doing her best imitation of Lindsay Lohan circa 2005. The girl mumbled her acceptance and they walked away, taking the stairs to the car park two at a time.

It was past seven when Dawn got home. She opened the door and, seeing a note left on the mat stooped down to pick it up. 'Rest fields Cemetery, midnight' it read, in Wesley's now familiar fountain pen scrawl. She shrugged her shoulders and dumped her shopping in her room and undressed to take a shower.

She put on a pair of worn jeans shorts and a white lace-trimmed tank top; she pulled on a purple hoodie and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was presentable. She grabbed her messenger bag and shoved her phone, ipod, wallet and keys in with the mess of stakes and knives. With her hair loose down her back and her eyeliner freshly applied she bounded down the stairs, exited that she had an evening with her friends.

By 11:45 she was getting antsy. She had slain a vampire by the shallows (far from her friends, thank god!) and was dying for more. It wasn't that she liked the kill, that she actively hunted. She just loved the feeling that she was saving people, one vampire at a time. She stuck out her tongue, 'lame, Summers', she muttered. She made her excuses and left her friends.

Rest fields was eerily calm as she stepped through the gates, her green flats making no sound on the gravel. She went towards their usual meeting place and waited, the angel statue making her feel protected. She gripped a stake and she was tense, ready to fight at any minute. At exactly midnight a figure approached from the trees. He swayed and smelt of cheap alcohol, his platinum hair tousled and in messy curls. Dawn stood up, not sure whether he was a vampire, or just a drunk (she had come close to staking a few before). He was muttering to himself, and didn't seem to see her. As he came closer to her she caught what he was saying "I'm a bad man, I killed the girls, didn't have the spark, couldn't be good, couldn't be bad. She loved me but I'm too bad, can't hunt, can't fight. So I got it back. So I could fit. So I could do what they wanted. The girl, Buffy wanted." He stopped in front of her and his head seemed to clear.

"Dawn," he smiled and put on his game face. Immediately Dawn lunged towards him, to that he cowered, sat on the floor and leant against a gravestone, his knees drawn up to his body and his hands over his ears. He shook his head and rocked from side to side.

"Knew she wouldn't want me, she doesn't know me, but the girl has dreams, a sister dead. I wanted to kill her, but everything changed. Different girl, slayer messed up. I messed up. Dru wouldn't love me anymore. Said I didn't have it anymore. Worthless, should be dead, like Angelus. Should have fried." He said, not stopping for breath. He wasn't looking at Dawn and she slapped him in the face.

"What did you do? How do you know Buffy? How did you know about my dreams?" She asked the stake still in her hands.

"You know me, and I know you, you were the Key, curds and whey. But not any more, they changed it. Dru saw. I was going to be a hero and they changed it. She loved me and they changed it. Niblet, what have we done?" He asked, bewildered, looking into her eyes. When their eyes met Dawn realised who he was.

"Spike?" She said softly, feeling safe near him, despite her better judgement. This dishevelled, crazy man was Spike. And he knew about her dreams, knew what she had been. But did he have a soul? Quickly she opened his shirt and looked at his pale chest; there on the left side over his heart was a criss-cross of cuts and older scars.

"Tried to cut it out," he said, looking at her sadly. She looked closer. He was painfully thin, covered in cuts, obviously self-inflicted.

"What did you do?" She whispered.

"I had to suffer, do to myself what I did to them. I have to suffer. There's no penance big enough. So I looked for you. Sanshu said that I had to help." He replied carefully, as if the words hurt to get out.

"Sanshu?" She asked

"The vampire with a soul will become human, once he survives the coming darkness, the apocalyptic battles, a plagues and fiends that will be unleashed." He paused, thinking about something. "So I'll help you, the slayer." He tried to smile.

"But you don't know me, how can I trust you?" She asked.

"'Cause Buffy would, 'cause you could kill me in a flash. 'Cause I saved your watcher." He said.

Dawn jumped up "You have my watcher?" She asked through gritted teach.

"Hey, hey, purely good intentions. I don't bite, can't bite, 'cause I'm a bad puppy. Had to be trained, choke-chained. Help the girl, save the girl. Don't hurt people, stay away, hide; eat the rats, ones that they don't miss…" He rambled as he staggered through the cemetery, Dawn following him cautiously.

'If this was a horror movie… I'd be dead already.' She thought bitterly as she stalked behind the clearly deranged vampire.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing (well some characterization and all the LA-ness). Also, as I have £2.95 to my name, suing me would be rather pointless.

Sorry it took so long for me to update. I've been ill and my internet has been on the fritz. I know I missed out a big explainy bit in this, but it was really boring to write... So I'm just going to explain it as the story advances.

Please review and tell me what you think about it all... And give me ideas about the arc/ possible romance. Thanks

She followed him out of the cemetery and through the dark streets of the town ('the bad part of town', Dawn thought). He continued to mutter to himself and she knew that she shouldn't trust him, but she needed to find Wesley, more importantly, she needed to find out what Spike meant, how they knew each other. Had they done something? 'And,' a small voice in her head whispered. 'Could we save Buffy?'

After a few minutes of seemingly random walking through turned streets and alleys Spike turned to her. She was sucking on a cigarette and had put her hood up; they were stopped in front of a scorched office. He took a key out of his pocket and handed it to her, but proceeded to knock the door off its hinges. ('Yup, definitely crazy' Dawn muttered)

"Honey, I'm home!" He shouted into the darkness as he walked into the building. Dawn followed, stubbing out her cigarette and taking out a stake.

They entered a side-room.

"Wes?" She shouted. As her eyes adjusted she saw the filth in which Spike had been living. Rat carcasses and liquor bottles were strewn across the dirty floor and there was a tangle of blankets shoved to one corner. Wesley was gagged in the corner, handcuffed to a rust-covered water pipe, his head slack.

She ran over and broke open the cuffs. Wesley looked at her and smiled.

"I think we've got a problem," he said, coughing.

"So you're telling me that I'm not supposed to be here?" Dawn said slowly, half an hour later.

"There were prophecies that didn't come to pass…" Wesley replied, fumbling for the right words.

"Because she… ended it." Dawn shook her head.

"You can't blame her 'bit", Spike said, he had been surprisingly coherent throughout the conversation.

"Don't call me that, don't say my name like we're there. I'm not that girl and you are not that man." She lit a cigarette.

"I can see that and I'm trying," he replied. His eyes flickered and he looked to the ceiling. "Can't you show her? Tell her what I've done?" Once again, Dawn shook her head.

"There's nothing there Spike. No Superheroes in the sky." She said bitterly. "So, Wes, what are we going to do?" She turned to the grime-covered watcher.

"We need to take Spike somewhere safe. And we need to look for the people in your respective dreams. Dawn, I know that this isn't Sunnydale, but Spike does have a soul. He cares about you." On an after thought he added, "And he still cares about Buffy."

"I guess he can stay at my place… it's not like my dad would notice." She said, standing up and looking at Spike with a look of resolve on her face heart-breakingly similar to Buffy's. "My car's back at Rest fields." She said as she walked out of the room, gripping the stake hard enough to drive splinters into her hand.

They walked back to the cemetery in silence, all three of them smoking, lost in their own thoughts. When they reached Dawn's car she looked into Wesley's eyes, her bottom lip trembling.

"I'm sorry I'm not a real slayer Wes… Sorry that she messed it up. But we can be heroes, right?" She said slowly. Looking at her he saw how damaged she was, and so young.

"We already are," he replied.

As she drove away from him, Wesley was taken aback at how cruel the world had been to the girl. Losing a mother, sister, barely having a father and holding the weight of the world on her shoulders. One day, he feared, she would snap.

The next evening Dawn and Spike were in the basement smoking cigarettes and comparing dreams and reality.

"Your mum, she still died?" He asked looking into her eyes. Dawn looked away.

"When I was twelve, of an aneurism."

"Did she suffer?" He said quietly.

"What?" Dawn narrowed her eyes.

"She was nice… I'm sorry." He looked away from her. Dawn sat closer to him and looked into his eyes.

"I don't know. I don't think she knew she was sick; she wasn't in the hospital or anything. I just found her one morning." She took a deep breath and began to recite the story that she had told no one.

"My dad was out of town overnight so we were alone in the house. It was the first day back to school after winter vacation and I had been up for hours getting ready. I kept knocking on the bedroom door to see if she was awake but she didn't answer. I just figured that she was tired. So I was all ready to go and I went into her room. The first thing that hit me was how still she was. I walked over to the bed and there she was, lying there with her eyes wide open and glazed over. I touched her cheek and she, she was cold. I knew she was dead. So I sat on the floor next to her, hoping that my dad would come home. And I waited for hours. It was dark when he came home. He found me in the room next to her and pushed me out of the way to get to the body. He was shouting, asking how long she had been like that, was I so stupid that I couldn't think to call an ambulance? I just ran to my room, spent the night wide awake and went to school the next morning as if nothing had happened, murmuring excuses when people mentioned my absence the day before. I guess dad must've told the school, but no-one let on that they knew. I was like that for days, not sleeping and going to school a zombie. My dad was in shock, just sat in front of the TV drinking all day and night. Then, four days after it happened my mom's sister, Arlene arrived. She took me out of school, sorted out my dad and we never really talked about it again. He just threw himself into work and let me do what I wanted." She shook her head.

"I'm sorry," Spike said.

"For what?"

"That you had to go through that, that your dad didn't help you. That your mum died." He said, 'that Buffy wasn't there for you', he thought.

They stood up and walked up the stairs out of the basement.

"You wanna go kill things?" Dawn smiled as they reached the top.


End file.
